


loyal

by banshee_in_the_dark



Series: Appropriation [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Dominance, Echo is devious af and I love it, F/M, How Do I Tag, Politics, Smut, Topping from the Bottom, subtle dominance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 23:44:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9572156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/banshee_in_the_dark/pseuds/banshee_in_the_dark
Summary: She just needs to make sure this king keeps his head, his throne, and her in his bed. Soon enough she'll be able to make him do everything she wants. Everything.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I know we all saw the sexual tension between these two guys. Come on.
> 
> Thank you Marissa for encouraging me to delve into this trash ship!

The echo of her steps bounces off the decrepit walls as she makes her way down the hallway. The azgeda embassy is aesthetically far more to her liking, but the King made a smart move relocating their entire delegation to the Tower of the Commander. One of the few shows of intelligence he’s displayed in his short time as king, in her opinion.  

At this late hour, everyone is abed. Their warriors earned a night of rest and celebration. Polis is under azgeda rule and the Coalition might as well be. At this point, the Ambassadors are merely for show and their respective clans hold no weight. Their armies don’t stand a chance against azgeda and what little political power they held in Lexa’s Coalition died with her.

They’re all under azgeda dominium. For now.

The precariousness of their current situation quickens her step. Yes, they are the top. But any good warrior knows it’s just as easy to gain the upper hand in combat as it is to lose it. Until an azgeda Commander ascends, her people are vulnerable.  

Echo reaches the double doors at the end of the hall, barely restraining her sneer at the sight. This tower with it’s ornate fixtures and mouldy scent bears little resemblance to the austere and clean simplicity of azgeda domiciles. Even their castle, seat of the royal family and the pride of their nation, is an example of economical modesty. The artless rooms bear more honor than this whole decaying city.

The guards posted at the entrance stand at attention when she stops before them. She nods to them and waits patiently as the open the door for her. The hinges squeak as the door swings open and irritation bubbles inside her. The maintenance of this place leaves a lot to be desired. Clearly Lexa didn’t mind living in shambles.  

“Send word to the Head of the King’s Household that I require his presence tomorrow at first light,” she tells the guard on her left and steps into the room without awaiting confirmation. She knows her orders will be followed.

The door closes firmly behind her, the swift gust of air nearly blowing the only source of light in the spacious room. She notices only two of the dozen candles fixed on the candelabra are lit and the corner of her mouth ticks up briefly with approval. Squandering resources is not the azgeda way. The King has not forgotten that. 

“Why are you here?”

Her eyes quickly search in the shadows for the origin of his voice. She locates him with ease, reclining on an armchair by the open balcony doors. The faint light reflects off the wide planes of his powerful chest. 

Echo lifts her chin. “The Warchiefs are appeased, for now. The skaikru alliance was not well received by the army but they still toasted to your honor. It would’ve gone a great way into earning their loyalty, had you been there.”

Hiding the reproach in her voice is not a prime concern of hers. She is disappointed and he should know it.

“Not in the mood for celebrating,” he rasps.

“Your feelings are of little consequence when you’re one wrong move away from an assassination attempt.”

The King jumps to his feet and closes the distance within them faster than she thought him capable off after being on death’s doorstep hours ago. Echo holds her ground, the hitch in her breath the only visible sign of her alarm.

He lowers his face until his warm breath fans over her stony features. “Is that a threat?”

“A warning,” she replies simply. “As Head of the kingsguard, it’s my duty to protect you.”

“As you protected my mother?”

She turns her eyes away for a second. “I did not fail the late Queen. You did.”

She sees his nostrils flare, her jab hitting the intended target. There’s something very satisfying about being able to cause a reaction on this man.

Echo bows her head in a show of deference. “Gaining control of the Flame was smart. Your people are impressed.”

“I thought they wanted me dead,” he drawls, a hint of humor laced in his words.

She allows a small smile to curve her lips. “There are only two reasons at the root of any and all assassination attempts: you’re doing everything wrong, or something right.”

He hums, a low gravelly sound that spread unexpected heat through her body. 

“Your people don’t know you,” she says, putting effort into softening the blunt statement. Sparing anyone’s feelings is not a habit of hers, but for the King she’ll make a concession. “They don’t trust you. You’ve been gone too long, under Polis rule. They wonder if your loyalties have shifted. But today you brought us all honor. Today Polis sleeps under azgeda watch. It’s a good start, but it’s not enough. I can help you. A more loyal servant you won’t find.”

“Why?” the King asks, eyes narrowing and shining with suspicion. 

“Because I want our people to thrive and I think with you leading us, we can.”

He blinks, the ice blue of his eyes piercing her in the spot in an attempt to spot the lie. With her training, those come easy. But she has nothing to hide. The wellbeing of azgeda is the reason she lives and breathes. She will kill, bleed, sacrifice everything for her people. She suspects the King feels the same, has seen the sorrow thinly veiled in his eyes when he is reminded of his exile. Being at odds with his people hurts him more than he lets on. Of all the options azgeda has, he is the best. His younger brothers don’t have the constitution to bear the weight of the Crown. If Roan falls, civil war will spread across their nation like wildfire, leaving them weak and vulnerable.

She swore an oath to protect the Crown. She will help him whether he wants it or not.       

His lack of trust in her makes it difficult, but it’s not an insurmountable obstacle. As the highest ranking member of the kingsguard she holds some weight, but not enough to make a real difference. She needs to gain his trust and do it fast. The future of their people depends on it.

“Let me serve you,” she says as she slowly lowers herself to her knees before him.

She used those words earlier that day and received little response from him then. He is reluctant to receive advice from anyone, even his own people, and keeps council with none but himself. That is a lonely, dangerous way to rule. Makes him vulnerable to an emotional approach. 

Others will notice. The noble families will certainly be eager to gain whatever edge they can over the rest, and they will be offering their daughters to the King in an effort to gain his favor and his ear. If Echo believed for one second any of them cared about the wellbeing of the people of azgeda, she would gladly escort the girl in question to the King’s bedchamber. But she’s been in the queensguard half her life and she knows that the nobles care for little more than their own agendas. She can’t let any of them influence the King. She has to beat them before the game even starts.

Sharing his bed in order to gain his trust will not be a burden, but a privilege. She is doing important work here, all for the benefit of him and their people as she is duty-bound to do so. She just needs to make sure this king keeps his head, his throne, and her in his bed. Soon enough she'll be able to make him do everything she wants. Everything. 

His large hand comes to rest atop her head, the heavy weight sending an exhilarating thrill through her. With her head bowed in a perfect show of submission, Echo is unable to see his face. She has a prime view of his other hand undoing his leathers with an efficient tug, however.

She keeps her satisfied smile hidden and reaches with her hands into his leathers, carefully releasing his manhood. Tales of the Prince’s sexual prowess had been public knowledge since long before he was exiled, and Echo is pleased to confirm the rumors had not exaggerated his size and girth. Even not completely erect, he is impressive.

She looks up at him, and the heat in his gaze washes over her. She licks her lips with irreverent purpose and opens her mouth to accept her Sire.

The first contact is a shock and Echo allows a soft moan. He is cut like all azgeda warriors, the flaring head dark and pulsing. She focuses her initial efforts there, bathing it with her tongue as she wraps a hand around the lengthy shaft, noticing with a shiver that her unusually long fingers come short to closing around it. She strokes him as her tongue and lips work on the most sensitive part until he throbs in her touch. She retreats to evaluate her progress. 

His cock is now completely erect, curving up so the tip touches his firm abdomen, bobbing with urgency. It demands attention, and the King’s hand on top of her head, now holding her hair tightly rather than just resting there, demands she gives him what he needs without delay.

An unexpected wave of arousal shakes her. This is no more than a means to an end - she is doing it for azgeda - but she can’t deny the King affects her. He is all a warrior should be, strong and disciplined, and he’s certainly not bad looking. The raw feelings present in his eyes, evidenced in the strength of his hold on her hair, are clear: he doesn’t trust her, doesn’t like her, barely respects her, and he thinks he’s using her. It makes him hot.

Echo smirks when she takes him in her mouth in a long, smooth motion until he reaches the back of her throat. She hollows her cheeks and swallows around him, fighting the urge to gag. She moves back and lets his cock fall from her lips with a wet sound. She’s using him, and he has no idea.

It makes her hot, too.

She wraps her hand around him and strokes him while her lips attach to the underside of his shaft near the base. The King shudders and curses under his breath and a sharp bolt of need pierces her. Her thumb moves over the tip rubbing away at the sticky seed gathered there, but as she softly nibbles and licks on the section right above his hairy sac, she feels more seep through the slit. 

In a selfish detour she did not plan - Echo is nothing if efficient and task-focused in all things - she unattaches her lips from him and brings her thumb to her mouth to taste the seed coated there. She moans low in her throat at his tart, invasive taste. Her eyes take in the sight of the powerful man before her, from the dark lust in his eyes to his demanding manhood. She licks her lips staring at the shiny tip. The King’s cock weeps for her attention.

His breathing is slow and labored but he stays perfectly still, steely muscles locked in place. Echo licks the veined length up and down with deliberate enthusiasm as she rolls his heavy sac in her hand, the actions designed to quickly make him lose control. 

When she is satisfied he’s been sufficiently teased, she goes back to the mushroomed head, nibbling on it before drawing it between her lips. She pumps the length of his cock while she sucks as hard as she can, working him aggressively. Her tongue labors over the weeping slit, ready to taste him. 

The muscles in his abdomen ripple and the King spreads his legs, gaining leverage. She accepts his deep thrusts, relaxing her throat when he demands she take him further. His hand firsts on her hair but the burn in her scalp only adds to her mounting desire. 

Echo can no longer control the pace or the depth of his thrusts. The King’s control snapped and she’s just a vessel to slake his lust. There is a quiet sense of bliss humming in her bones, confusing as it is overwhelming.   

Clinging to whatever power she has over him, she brings one hand to massage his sac. His balls are tight and heavy with seed. In response, the King drives to the back of her throat and stays there, triggering her reflex to gag. She struggles and makes an involuntary hungry sound that surprises her and infuriates her in equal measure. 

He groans and retreats. She coughs and swallows, his length brushing her cheek as she attempts to compose herself.

“Do not spill my seed,” the King instructs her with a low growl, the firm hold on her hair guiding her to take him in her mouth once again.

“Yes Sire,” Echo vows before wrapping her lips around the tip of his cock and hollowing her cheeks.  

His hand knocks off hers and wraps around his shaft, stroking roughly. His closed fist brushes her chin, not hard enough to hurt but enough to jostle her. Echo doubles her efforts, locking her lips and suctionig hard to maintain his cockhead within her mouth and resting atop her tongue. With a guttural groan, the King unloads his seed into her willing mouth. The tart taste invades her senses, and all thought flies from her head. She is consumed by her task, slurping and swallowing his come. It’s her duty and her privilege and Echo moans nonstop, savoring the heady taste that evidence she can make the King himself lose control.

When the hold on her hair slackens and she detects a light tremor on his body, she takes her cue to release his spent shaft. Echo stands up and wipes her lips and chin with the back of her hand under the King’s vigilant gaze. Her years of arduous training come in help to hide her inner turmoil. She feels unglued, on the edge, needy. She despises it.

He narrows his eyes. “Hold still,” he orders in that offensively hoarse voice of his.

Echo follows suit without resistance. She raises her chin and stares ahead of her at a random spot over his shoulder. The King steps closer, and it unnerves her that a simple action as stepping into her personal space and sharing the air they breathe has such a drastic effect on her. She had him in her mouth minutes ago, but his close scrutiny makes her vulnerable and nervous  in a way that being on her knees for him didn’t. 

His rough fingers trace the seam of her pants, thumbing the brass button before undoing it with a firm flick. “Open.”

She tenses but spreads her legs. She did not anticipate this, not tonight. He’s detouring from her plan. 

His hand sneaks into her pants and undergarments, assertively cupping her sex. He traces her slit and she catches his triumphal smirk out the corner of her eye when he encounters wetness gathered there.

“Look at me.”

Echo follows his terse command and meets his eye. The height difference between them is insubstantial but she still feels cowed under the intensity of his ice hot gaze.

The King raises his hand slowly and bathes his shiny fingers with his tongue until all her juices are gone. She’s unable to look away and, to her horror, she feels her cool and collected facade begin to crack.

The King turns his back on her abruptly and prowls like a large feline into the shadows by the window where she first found him. “You may leave.” 

Without a word, Echo turns on her heel and makes her escape, having the presence of mind to rearrange her pants before signaling for the door to open. When she meets the guards, she is just as she was when she came in. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I anticipated no one is interested on this ship but if by any chance you are and you read this, I'd love to hear you thoughts! For now it's a oneshot but.... you never know.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
